Reincarnation Drabbles
by RamblingRae
Summary: A series of drabbles about Alfred and Arthur through different time periods. Human AU USUK/UKUS
1. 1400s - The Prince and The Peasant

_**[AN:**_

 _ **I wrote these for an AU that my girlfriend and I are RPing, which involve Hitman Jones and a Writer Arthur.**_

 ** _We were talking one day, and somehow got onto the topic of past lives, and I got the inspiration to write all of these. Most of these were written at 2am, so pardon any errors with time periods- or any grammatical errors._**

 _ **Feel free to correct any errors that I might have made, but other than that, do enjoy and leave feedback!**_

 _ **Warning, it is rather feelsy, but all of these will be. There will also be character deaths in each drabble, but that's just how this works-**_

 _ **You'll see why.]**_

* * *

 **1400s**

It was a warm summer day when Alfred Jones first saw Prince Arthur. The sun was shining down beautifully upon the village and peasant after peasant walked down the paths, doing their daily chores and shopping at local markets. Alfred, who was 11 years old at the time, was helping his father sell fish, while his mother was down the street selling freshly picked flowers and such. The Jones' were venders by trade, selling whatever made a profit at the time, switching products with the seasons. Flowers and fish during the summer and spring, firewood and wool during the fall and winter. Occasionally, Alfred would make little crafts and even furniture that nobles would buy if they were good enough. That would bring some nice food to the table.

Helping his father sort the fish, he heard the sound of music, played by a few instruments, playing the anthem of their land, signaling that there was definitely royalty coming through. Cerulean blue eyes widened as he looked up to his father, who chuckled in response. "Go on." The elder Jones waved him off, just smiling all the while as Alfred excitedly ran off. After being handed a simple yet beautiful flower from his mother, he headed out to the parade of people who had gathered to see the royal family pass by. The people were in love with their royalty. The Kirklands were a good sort- charitable to the people, attentive to their subjects, good stuff like that. And they were definitely all good looking, or so Alfred had heard. Many times he would hear girls in the village talking about Prince Arthur and his charm. They all wanted to be his wedded wife. And with good reason.

Making his way through the crowd, the eleven-year-old pushed to the front, eyes bright as he watched a horse drawn carriage ride down the path. The peasants around him cheered and he couldn't help but cheer along himself. The carriage pulled forward, drawn by several beautiful stallions, and stopped in the middle of the town square where the peasants all gathered. And then, both the prince and King stepped out. King James was a tall man with long, red locks, a beard to match, and sharp green eyes. He was dressed in the some of the grandest clothes that Alfred had ever seen. And the prince- oh wow. He could see why the young girls made a big deal about him. Prince Arthur was a slender boy of thirteen and not quite as tall as his father, but he was beautiful. A mess of ginger hair rested on his head, a little specks of freckles upon his cheeks, a rare sight to see amongst royalty. He must burn easily.

Attempting to deafen the chatter, King James cleared his throat and waited for the noise to die down. And then he spoke. "As all of you might know, Prince Allistor died in the final battle with France-"

"Prince Allistor, may he rest in peace." The crowd recited quietly, most murmuring.

"-And so, whenever Prince Arthur turns 21, he will be taking the throne in Allistor's place."

And at this, the crowd cheered, and squealing could be heard from a group of young girls, who stood near Alfred.

The king smiled. "I am confident that Arthur will be a wonderful ruler and will treat all of you wonderfully. For now, he will be training to be the best he can be. Arthur? Care to say a few words?" He looked toward his son, who cleared his throat and stepped forward. "If I may." When the king nodded in response, Arthur looked out toward the people.

"As my father has said, I will be taking over where my brother could not..." He paused, looking slightly upset for a moment at the loss of his brother, but he quickly recovered. "And I swear to be the best King and Prince that this nation has ever seen. Thank you all." There was more applause and the crowd dispersed as they were allowed to ask questions and offer gifts. The girls, of course, offered Arthur gift upon gift, which he didn't seem too pleased with.

In the end, Alfred walked up to the young prince, smiling and holding out the bright blue flower, one the colour of his eyes. "For you, Prince Arthur. I just know that yer gonna be a great King one day. We all have faith in you."

This seemed to make those princely emerald hues brighten. "Oh, thank you." He replied genuinely, taking the small and humble offering and tucking it into the top of his collar. "Thank you, er..."

"Alfred. Alfred Jones, your majesty." He introduced himself, grinning a bit, causing the prince to laugh softly. "Of course. It is a pleasure to meet you." And then they shook hands, unaware of how this meeting would change the course of their lives.

It wasn't until the day after he turned seventeen that he saw Arthur again when he landed a job in the Royal stables. Having been trained by the previous stable men, he'd landed the job easily. Now, he had the job of caring for all of the Royal horses, which he loved. Currently, he was giving Prince Arthur's horse, Charity, a good brushing, making sure to get her creamy white coat nice and shiny. He hummed aloud to her, humming a song that his mother once sang, while soothing the soft mane with a fine brush.

As he hummed, he heard a voice singing along:

 _"Greensleeves was all my joy_

 _Greensleeves was my delight:_

 _Greensleeves was my heart of gold,_

 _And who but my Ladie Greensleeves."_

Blinking back toward the voice, Alfred stopped his humming to see who other than Prince Arthur standing in the entryway. The stableman's breath hitched. Arthur had most certainly grown more handsome over the years. The prince was now nineteen and had grown taller, although he was now shorter than Alfred, who had had a massive growth spurt when he'd turned thirteen. More freckles were visible on the prince's face, his face more solemn looking, and he was still slender, although his hands were roughed up from learning swordplay and music. There was a moment of silence before the prince stepped forward, an almost fond look on his face, but not smiling.

"You know the song 'Greensleeves'...?" Arthur questioned as he walked forward, making Alfred shrug. "My mother used to sing it to me- I know the tune, not really the words." The taller man replied, continuing his work with Charity, who made a happy whinnying sound. The horse really had seemed to take a liking to the newcomer, which surprised Arthur. "She usually doesn't like new arrivals," The prince commented, making Alfred blink and looked back, tilting his head to the side. "Oh yeah? She seems to be liking me just fine," Came his reply as a slight grin appeared on his face. "Maybe she just likes my charm."

Arthur couldn't help but snort. "I doubt it. Don't let that swell your ego, lad," He said as he headed over to gently run his hands through the mare's hair. "Although, she is a good judge of character, so you can't be too horrible of a human being." Arthur added as a sort of afterthought. Alfred laughed. "That's right. I guess I'm not that horrible of a human being then." He decided, making the prince just chuckle a bit. "I suppose you aren't."

After this meeting, Arthur came to visit Alfred in the stables every single day, pretending to just be checking on Charity. This continued on for months, and during these months, both men slowly started to realize that they were definitely attracted to each other. With Arthur, it started with his dreams. When he started to have less than innocent dreams about his friend, he knew that something was up. For Alfred, it was just a realization. He'd probably been attracted to Arthur for years- ever since they first met at that parade. Neither man did anything about their feelings. They decided to keep it to themselves out of fear of being caught and of rejection by the other. Arthur wasn't sure which one was worse. Homosexuality was a sin that could lead to execution, or even torture, if they were caught in the act. He almost couldn't risk it- until one day when he just couldn't keep it to himself.

That day, Arthur had decided to invite Alfred out riding with him. The stableman agreed almost instantly because he loved to ride horses, but rarely got the opportunity because he was usually busy taking care of them. And so, after leaving one of his fellow stablemen to cover for him, Alfred and Arthur left for an afternoon ride.

The ride was beautiful. They rode down a single path through a field of green, the land stretching far and wide, speckled and dotted with beautiful flowers. It looked like a scene out of a story, or even a painting. Perhaps even a fairytale. Alfred loved the scenery and was more than happy to stop when Arthur led him to an area beneath a tall tree, slightly shaded yet still surrounded by the beautiful flora. After tying up the two horses to make sure they stayed, the two men sat beneath the shaded tree, looking out into the distance, making small talk.

Arthur was nervous. What he was going to say could make or break him- their friendship, his reputation- it was all on the line. Pausing for a moment, he looked over to Alfred, who was just looking at him. Oh. Flushing, the prince coughed and looked away. "You know, this is the exact spot where my father proposed to my mother," Arthur commented quietly, messing with part of his tunic. The taller blond smiled. "Oh yeah? This spot must be real special then." Alfred commented, the breeze blowing through his soft, wheat coloured hair. "Mmhm.." Arthur hummed in response before he looked back over. Both men paused.

"Your majesty, I-" "Alfred, I-"

They both spoke at the same time, interrupting each other. Flushing only faintly, Alfred coughed and scratched his shoulder. "You first, your majesty."

Arthur exhaled. "I... I have to admit something that will probably make you repulsed, and even perhaps hate me."

The peasant blinked before he chuckled. "Your majesty, I could never hate you- even if I tried."

Biting the inside of his cheek, Arthur wasn't sure about that. "Well... Then... I have to admit that I'm attracted to you." It was a mumble, so Alfred couldn't hear it. "What?"

"I'm attracted to you-" Arthur said a bit louder, and this time, Alfred heard it. He seemed surprised but he actually smiled. "Yeah? Looks like you beat me to the confession..." He ran a hand through his hair. "I've felt that way for a while. Probably ever since I first saw you." Alfred admitted.

Arthur just blinked and finally, a teeny smile creeped it's way onto his face. "...truly?"

"Truly."

Under that tree, they shared their first kiss.

The two men slowly grew into lovers over the next few months. Summer turned into winter, then winter turned to spring once more, and their love blossomed like the flowers in the field that they shared their first kiss in. That field also became the place that they first made love, and the place for many other firsts.

Two whole years passed and their love stayed strong, sturdy, and almost unbreakable. By now, it was a week away from Arthur's coronation to become king- and he was hesitant. If he became king, he would have to marry a woman and produce an heir with her. He couldn't marry Alfred, and that killed him. And so, one day, as they laid in that field together, he made a plan.

"Hey, love?" Arthur's voice quietly sounded from where he laid firmly held in Alfred's arms. The stableman looked over at him, blinking. "Yeah?"

A pause. "Let's run away together. Tonight."

Alfred looked shocked to hear this. "Are you sure?" He questioned quietly. They'd been talking about this for a while- more as a joke than anything, but this was serious. Arthur nodded in response, intertwining their hands together. "Of course. Meet me right here when the moon is high in the sky. We can head off then." Taking Alfred's hand, he pulled it upward, pressing his lips against it. Grinning, the stableman pulled the prince close, sealing their lips together in a sweet kiss. Things were finally going great.

But little did they know, someone saw their exchange and reported it to the king, who was immediately enraged. Later that day, when Arthur was studying, he ordered the guards to arrest Alfred for 'seducing the prince'. He was to be executed the next morning.

Unaware of this, Arthur snuck out later that night, ready to run away. But when he got there, Alfred was nowhere in sight. He waited for hours and hours and hours- but he never showed up.

The next morning, everyone was called to watch the execution. Even Arthur, who didn't exactly know who it was. Sitting in the area behind the guillotine with his father, he watched as the prisoner was walked out, face covered with a black bag. But when it was revealed to be Alfred, he was utterly horrified, and tried to stop it, but he was too late. Alfred was executed.

Later that night, Arthur sat in his room, sobbing his heart out on the floor. He couldn't handle the loss of his love. And so, he spent the next few days in his room, not leaving for anything. Servants would bring food and water, and even his father tried to talk to him, but he wasn't permitted inside.

Arthur spent those days delving into magic books, attempting to find a way to perhaps bring Alfred back... But alas, there was no way to bring back the dead. But what he found had to work. It was a soulmate spell- one that would intertwine Alfred and Arthur's souls forever, making them destined to meet in another life until they were allowed to finally be together. All he needed was something of Alfred's and something of his. And then a goblet of wine to mix the concoction in. He would say the spell, and then Arthur would drink, sealing his and his descendants' fates.

After gathering the needed materials, he made the potion and stood in front of his balcony window, eyes closed. And then he said the spell:

"Coniungere animas simul conservare vinculum animae viventes.

Stella, transisse amatores et dira fata, carmine hoc illis obviam forte in alia, aliud." ******

Star crossed lovers with a horrid fate, let this spell help them meet again in perhaps another form, another way.**

And then he drank.

Prince Arthur was found dead the next morning. His younger brother, Peter, ended up assuming the throne and Arthur's death was left as a mysterious suicide. A secretly tragedy that no one knew the secret behind- and perhaps never would.

 **[**Connect the souls together, to keep the soul's bond alive.]**


	2. 1500s - Captain Kirkland's Lost Love

_**[AN:**_

 _ **And here's the second one! This one is about pirates, of course, and it's just feelsy as all can be.**_

 _ **No one actually dies in this one, so that's good, I guess. It's still hella heartbreaking, not gonna lie.**_

 _ **Anyway, do enjoy and leave me some reviews or something!]**_

* * *

 **1500s**

A century later, Arthur Ignatius Kirkland was born to a peasant family in rural England. The family was overwhelmingly poor and grew their own food to get by. As a child, Arthur was quiet, calculated and resourceful. He tended to flock off on his own whist the other children played and carried on. He would just watch everyone rather than socialize. This habit continued on into his teens, and as soon as he saved up enough money, he headed off to the coast to seek his fortune as a traveling sailor. After a few years of sailing on a British passenger ship, he became experienced and was naturally good at navigating the great ocean's waters. He knew just when to go out and when they had to dock the ship up. He was well known for his intelligence and skill.

One day, the ship that he sailed on was intercepted by a pirate ship. Most aboard the ship were slaughtered and the supplies were pillaged, but when the captain discovered Arthur's skills, he was spared. He spent several years on the pirate ship and after serving his time, he was promoted to the position of first mate, and became well-trusted by the old pirate captain. But little did the captain know, Arthur and several members of the crew were planning to stage a coup and wanted to take the ship for their own. And they did this, easily succeeding. That was how Captain Kirkland came to be.

Years later, Kirkland became known as the most prominent pirate of his time. He was ruthless and cunning- witty and sharp. He became the subject of myth, legend, and history. He was wanted in nearly every country and would always escape capture easily. In his time, he sunk over a hundred ships and pillaged even more than that. Although, only one ship had something that he really wanted and desired on it- a companion.

It was a calm night on the wide ocean blue, and one of Kirkland's crew members spotted a cargo ship in the distance- one that seemed to be heading to France. Seeing this as the perfect opportunity, Kirkland directed his ship in the direction of it. Once there, the pillaging began. Pirates easily boarded the ship with their weapons and easily took control of it, taking what was useful and tossing what wasn't overboard. It was just normal at first. And then, Kirkland saw /him/.

The man in question was tall, well-built, and tan, seeming to be well worn from ship work. He was obviously young and couldn't be more than seventeen. His hair shone in the sunlight, the rays reflecting off of the perfectly golden wheat colour. Eyes were as blue as summer skies- as blue as the sea. He'd never seen eyes that were bluer. Walking up to the boy, who was tied up with a few others who the pirate captain didn't care to look at, he pulled out his sword, delicately pointing it below the sailor's neck. "What's your name, boy?" He asked, emerald gaze sharp, questioning- lips pressed together in a firm line. Silence. "...Alfred Jones." Came the other's answer.

Kirkland kept the sword poised. "Well, Jones, today is your lucky day. I have a proposition for you." When there was no response, the blond captain continued. "Come and work on my ship and you get to live. It is as simple as that. You refuse, and you die with the rest of your crew." He didn't know why he was offering this. He usually never spared anyone- this went completely against his ruthless reputation.

Luckily though, Alfred was smart enough to accept and not question it. He was welcomed aboard and easily became part of the crew due to his boisterous and easy-going personality. He easily made friends with the other pirates, although he was hesitant about joining in on raids and pillages, so he ended up becoming the one who watched over the ship, or the one that watched Kirkland's back during fights. Because of their close proximity, the men became close friends.

Over the months that they got to know one another and worked beside each other, Kirkland got to know Jones very swell, and he just became enraptured by his personality. They would talk for hours and hours upon the deck while the other crew members were sleeping and they would just watch the sunset and sunrise together, just talking about their pasts and such.

After a few more months of this, Kirkland soon realized that he was falling in love with the lad. But alas, his love remained unrequited. Kirkland soon learned of Jones's lost love and fiancee- a beautiful and smart German girl that he'd left behind when he went to work as a sailor. He had been saving up to be able to give her a good lifestyle- just like the good man that he was. And of course, Alfred mourned over not being able to see her again, and Kirkland's love remained unnoticed and unrequited. Alfred would never love Arthur as long as he remained obsessed with the girl he'd left behind.

Kirkland tried to win the sailor's affections over the next few months. He'd treat him a bit more special than the rest of his crew, let him off easier, pay him a bit better... but nothing seemed to get his mind off of that woman. And so, when Alfred came begging to him one day to just bring him back to her, Kirkland couldn't resist.

It had been a quiet night at sea and the rest of the crew was asleep. Kirkland and Jones were laying together on the deck, quietly looking up at the stars. Well, Jones was. The captain was busy looking at how the stars reflected against the boy's eyes, how his skin glew in the moonlight... So breathtaking. Really, Arthur just had it bad.

Their eyes soon met and they remained quiet. "Arthur, I really miss her." Came Alfred's quiet tone, the tone that could just break Arthur's heart in an instant, just like the words that came with it. "I dream of her every night. I can't get Monika out of my head. Please, Captain. I have to go back to her."

Kirkland's lips pressed together firmly. Oh how he wanted to tell Alfred 'no'! How he wanted to keep the other for himself! How he just wanted to take the other into his arms and kiss him breathless, to just have and hold him forever. But alas, it wasn't meant to be. After giving the other a long and hard stare, he slowly sat up and nodded.

"Aye, lad. Fine. In the morning, we shall steer back toward your homeland." And as he stood, Alfred stood as well, and suddenly the captain was engulfed into strong and tan arms, the owner of the limbs just happy and beaming. "Thank you, Captain! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Flushing, Kirkland coughed and pulled away, looking in another direction so that the other wouldn't see his expression, which was just full of sadness. "Mmhm. No problem, lad." He managed to reply monotonously. And that next day, Kirkland made the crew steer the ship back toward Alfred's home.

Once there, Arthur walked Alfred back to his town and to Monika's home. Both men were quiet, neither one saying a word, both for different reasons. Alfred was nervous about coming home. Arthur was upset that he was letting the one person in this world that he loved go. Pausing in front of the little house that Monika called home, Alfred turned back toward his pirate friend.

"...Arthur, what if-"Arthur cut him off. "Don't even think of the what if. Just go and be happy." _Leave so that I can get over you and move on. Leave and get married, have your happy little family. Don't give me a reason to stop you. Please, please go._

There was a moment of silence before Alfred finally nodded. "Right." He breathed out, looking back toward the door. A beat. "Thank you." And then, he headed to the door and knocked, sealing their fate. After that moment, Arthur left Alfred behind, never looking back.

Alfred and Monika were married and lived happily for the rest of their days, while Arthur continued his career as a pirate- stealing and raiding, along with the other things he'd done before he had even met the one lad that had changed his life forever. Though, it was never the same. His life would never be the same. He had loved and lost, and never loved again. Not truly.

He would find companionship, but never loved deeply like he had loved Alfred. No one's smile was as bright. Nor were their eyes as blue as the ocean that he'd come to love. No laugh was as warm and wholesome. No jokes were as corny, as horrible. Life wasn't enjoyable. It was like a sky without stars. Without stars, the sky ceases to be beautiful- and that is what happened to Captain Kirkland.

Slowly yet surely, he drank and drank, slowly killing his body with each and every drop. He wrote frequently, writing a memoir about his life and how he met a lad with shining blond hair and captivating cerulean blue eyes. And then, before he could finish his story, he died.

Captain Arthur Ignatius Kirkland died alone in his cabin, his body thrown overboard into the sea. He remains a legend, lore, and his story has gone down in history as one of the world's greatest romantic tragedies. His life may have been lost, but his story wasn't. It lived on forever and ever, and ever.


	3. 1700s - Tragedy on the Battlefield

_**[AN:**_

 _ **Moreeeeeeeeeeee. Moreeee feeelsssssssss.**_

 _ **I'm cruel, really, but I remember how much I enjoyed writing these tragic tales.**_

 _ **This one is an American Revolution AU, so it's bound to be just dramatic ;w;**_

 ** _As always, enjoy!]_**

* * *

How could this have happened? How could something so beautiful have ended so tragically?

Alfred had just been a farm boy from the American colonies. He wasn't the most intelligent of men- in fact, he hadn't been educated at all. None of the poor colonists really were. He was a second-generation Anglo-American, meaning that he really had no connection to the so called 'motherland'- except one.

Arthur Kirkland.

Arthur Kirkland was his best friend. Their friendship had started off as Alfred just annoying the pure-blooded Englishman, who had been shipped down to the colonies against his will, to live with his uncle, who was one of the most prominent landowners around. Large house. Large plot of land. Well-known. Alfred hadn't meant to befriend Arthur, but when they ran into each other one day, he couldn't help but admire the older boy and just started to follow him around.

Arthur, of course, being who he was, attempted to just drive Alfred away, but alas, it was no use. He grew strangely attached to the ploughboy, as said ploughboy did to him. And as they grew closer, Arthur started to educate Alfred. He taught him how to read, how to write (although he wasn't too good at it) and this concerned Alfred's parents, who would have no idea what he was talking about when he came home, rambling about Shakespeare's _Hamlet_ of all things, but they dismissed it as a phase. Arthur as a phase. But he wasn't. Oh Lord, he wasn't.

Alfred followed Arthur around like a happy puppy whenever he wasn't doing his chores, and sometimes Arthur would even read to him as he plowed the fields. He would sneak out after midnight to meet the Englishman by an old tree, just to hear him read under the moonlight. To Alfred, Arthur was a sort of ethereal being- someone out of his reach. The first-born Brits always were. Those born in England, who seemed to be of a higher pedigree. Just being around the boy was like a glance into a whole other world. A refined world. One that Alfred was vaguely curious about, but really had no desire to join.

He was happy being a farmer and living with his family, although he did aspire for adventure and wanted just a wee bit more. Arthur probably inspired that dream- with his tales of knights in shining armour, or of kings and queens and wars and all of that. And so, whenever Arthur signed up for the British army, Alfred's parents were glad to not have the Brit around, putting such wild ideas into their son's head, but alas, it was too late.

About a year passed and Alfred heard not a word from his friend, but he understood. The Army would keep one busy, but from the letters that he'd gotten previously from the Brit, he knew that he was gaining ranks fast, despite Arthur only being only eighteen years of age. Alfred knew that Arthur would always be a great soldier. He had a sort of icy demeanour, one that was unattached to the world part of the time, yet had a sharp wit, a set of brains, and manners that would gain him prominence with the higher ups and generals of the army.

Oh, how Alfred longed to join him! How he longed to leave the uneventful land and join Arthur in his stead! He longed for the adventure, longed for the excitement- and he just wasn't getting that there. Currently, he was bringing bales of hay into the barn, heading to stack them neatly in the corner. He was so distracted by the work that he hardly acknowledged the figure in the doorway. It was a red coat- the ones that the colonists were growing so tense with.

The Quartering Act had been passed nearly a decade ago, so he was used to the soldiers invading their personal space and taking what they needed. It was the law- it wasn't something that they had a choice in. His pa was angry with it, he could tell, but didn't say anything out of the fear of being prosecuted. And so, most colonists kept their mouths shut, but Alfred- and anyone else could feel the tension amongst themselves.

"Oi. Don't ignore me." A familiar voice drawled from the doorway, and when Alfred turned, he saw his very best friend standing there, looking worse for wear. He looked roughed up from the war, more wiry, and definitely a bit more rugged than he had been when Alfred had last laid eyes upon him. However, Alfred was now taller, and a bit more muscular than the soldier, despite their differences in activity. A bright smile upon his face, Alfred dropped what he was doing and ran over to the soldier, just lifting him up into his arms and twirling him in them. How good it felt to have him around again!

A soft laugh passed over Arthur's lips. "Down, lad. I haven't long and I would like to get a good look at you." Came his ever so drawled accent. Alfred set him down, and Arthur gestured for him to shut the barn door. And he did, using the locking mechanism to lock it from the inside. Alone at last.

Arthur stepped back, looking toward Alfred once more, emerald hues just raking over his body slowly. "You're taller." He commented with a frown. Alfred chuckled nervously. "Yeah. Pa says that it's a growth spurt. I grew really fast. Runs in the family, apparently." A pause. "You look- different."

Arthur snorted but nodded. "The army will do that to you, my dear." Moving to open his arms slightly, he beckoned Alfred over. "Come." And he did. The now taller colonist pulled his friend into his own arms, their bodies pressed warmly together. And then, Arthur leaned up, pressing their lips together, kissing him deeply, swiftly, mumbling, "I haven't long." And they never did. When it came to a secret affair such as theirs, there never was enough time. Only fleeting touches and kisses in privacy.

Alfred wasn't sure how this all began, but once it did, he became fully addicted to the other man. Hanging upon every word of his letters, waiting for him to come home. Almost like the wife of a soldier at war.

Their touches grew more wild, more desperate, as they realized just how little time they would have. And so, Alfred grabbed into Arthur's bright scarlet coat- tugging him off toward the piles of hay in the back of the barn, and as Alfred pinned the other man down on the pile, their lips still pressed together hard and heavy, he heard more mumbling against his lips, "Oh, how I've missed you."

And Alfred just acknowledged this by pulling away briefly, nudging their noses together with a slightly cheeky smile, moving to kiss Arthur's hand, just as he had kissed his many, many times before. "All days are nights to see till I see thee, and nights bright days when dreams do show thee to me." He mumbled right on back. Arthur smiled softly, something that only Alfred could ever see. Sitting up, he shrugged the crimson coloured coat off of his shoulders.

"You've been studying, have you?" He asked conversationally, glancing up at Alfred with those ever so changing hues of his. "Yeah, all for you." Came Alfred's response as he shed his own coat. "Well don't I just feel special?" Was the last thing that Arthur said before their lips were pressed together once more, each desperately savouring the taste of the other's.

They made love right then and there, and afterwards, they lay together, wrapped in one another's arms. Arthur's breathing was uneven as Alfred listened to it, just trying to memorize the beat of his heart. "Alfred, do you truly intend on joining up when you come to be of age?" Arthur asked quietly from where his head rested upon Alfred's shoulder. "Well, of course. I want to be there with you, to explore. There is so much more out there than this place, and I'm tired of missing out on it." Alfred replied easily, eyes moving to meet Arthur's in an intensity that the soldier had never seen before.

"Perhaps you should wait."

"Why?"

A sigh. "There have been troubles in the colonies lately- and if it continues, there has been talk of war." And he didn't want Alfred to get caught up in it. Too bad that he probably would.

"..."

"We could get caught up on opposite sides if you decided to join," Arthur added quietly. And could he turn his musket against Alfred? Run him through with his bayonet? Perhaps not.

"Opposite sides? As if I would ever fight against you." He was only British by perhaps the smallest drop of blood, but was he ready to turn against the motherland? No. Despite all of the atrocities, he just couldn't at the moment. But Arthur was worried that that would change. Well, not completely worried, but somewhat.

Alfred pressed closer, deciding to change the subject. "Been busy, have you? I haven't gotten a letter from you in a while." He pointed out, making Arthur frown and furrow his brows. "You can't read that well, Alfred-" The soldier said gently, making Alfred flush a bit from embarrassment, and just huff a bit. "Still. You did promise."

The Brit gently shook his head. "Alright. I will be sure to write more."

"Do you promise?"

"I promise."

And so, it was sealed with a kiss.

And as soon as Alfred turned eighteen, he indeed did enlist, but not on the side that he originally thought that he would at the age of fifteen. Three years had passed slowly, and over that period of time, Arthur's visits would be less frequent and shorter. His letters were brief, and spoke of war. Eventually, they stopped altogether. And so, whenever Alfred got the chance, he joined the Colonial Army, under the command of General George Washington. They had declared their freedom on Alfred's eighteenth birthday of all days. July 4, 1776. He now was completely invested in fighting for America. America- the country that would hopefully come to be.

The day that Arthur and Alfred would be fated to meet again would be a day that Alfred's comrades and himself would be set to ambush a platoon of red coats, who were heading to take supplies to the others. It was the perfect opportunity to cut off some of the English army's supplies and Alfred's commander wanted to take it.

And so, that day, they waited in the brush upon a hill, hiding and watching as the soldier in scarlet coats made their way down a path, and as soon as the colonists' commander yelled, "Charge!" Alfred recognized Arthur there. He looked more worn than ever, and definitely aged. Alfred had been hoping that this wouldn't happen- but they were enemies now.

When the colonists charged, the British soldiers were caught completely by surprise, and currently, Alfred was fighting with a tall ginger, while Arthur fought one of Alfred's comrades. When they met face-to-face after they each ran their bayonets through their enemies, emerald hues met cerulean, frozen in time. And while they were distracted, a red coat came charging at Alfred, bayonet heading straight to stab him through the stomach.

"Watch out!" Arthur called, but Alfred couldn't dodge in time, so the American shut his eyes, waiting for the piercing feeling- only to have it not come. Eyes fluttering open, he saw that Arthur had stepped in front of the bayonet, resulting in himself taking the blow, rather than Alfred himself. Time seemed to stop for Alfred, his heart in his throat. No. Lord, please, no.

But it was happening. Arthur died right there on the battlefield- right after the skirmish ended. No matter how much Alfred pleaded, he wasn't allowed to take him back to be healed. He was an enemy, but not to Alfred. In that moment, he felt like the fifteen year old that he used to be. The one that longed to be with Arthur- to fight by his side. Arthur was right. He never should have joined the war effort. The colonists won that skirmish, but Alfred didn't feel victorious. He felt empty.

Even as America gained it's independence whenever the Treaty of Paris was signed on September 3, 1783, Alfred couldn't celebrate with his friends and family. He couldn't. In the process of this revolution, he had lost the one that mattered most to him. The man who had taught him so much, showed him so much, the one who had helped him become who he was. To discover who he was. And now, this man was gone, and Alfred's heart was empty.

He didn't know how he would continue on.

Was freedom really worth all of this?


	4. 1960s - A Soldier's Coming Home

_**[AN:**_

 _ **This is the final installment of my reincarnation drabbles- mostly because I just don't have the drive to write more.**_

 ** _I think that this one of my favourite- it takes place around the time of Vietnam, and it's the 'soldier going away from home' AU- and it's partially based off of the song 'Travelin' Soldier' by the Dixie Chicks. If you want some good mood music for this chapter, just go and look that up. It'll make this more powerful._**

 ** _Enjoy, blah, blah, blah.]_**

* * *

 **1965**

Late afternoon on Wrightsville Beach in North Carolina. A beautiful day. The waves crashed magnificently in the distance, and the sun shone loudly and proudly as wind swept over the beach, blowing faint sand around. A tall, man dressed in army greens stood by the water, his boots shiny and well polished- hair cut short. Eyes the colour of the sea. Skin shining beneath the warm sun. A little breath passed over his lips. It was his last day in the US. In the morning, he would be shipped off to Vietnam to help in the war.

Having been a soldier for three years already, Alfred F. Jones was already used to the idea of war, but he'd never expected to be put into one in his lifetime, but here he was. Was he ready? As ready as he could be, really. He was well-trained and trusted his comrades deeply, ready to die for them and for his country if need be.

Ever since he was small, he'd wanted to be a hero. He would draw little comics with heroes in them with amazing powers- super speed, super strength.. He'd always wanted to be as strong as them. Life went on after this, and he firmly believed that one of these days, he would be a hero. He'd make a difference. So, whenever he turned eighteen, he enlisted in the army. His mother cried. His brother told him how stupid he was and cried at his feet. But Alfred was completely sure. He knew that this was what he wanted to do.

And so, he endured the harshness of basic training and learned everything he could. He gained ranks rather fast, going from Private to Private Second Class. Then Private First Class. He was doing well, and that was when he was told. The US would join the Vietnam War. And so, the soldiers were given time to gather up their spirits, say good-bye to their families and such, and so, here he was. He'd already said good-bye to his mother, good-bye to his brother... and that was it. He would be shipped off in the morning. Looking around at the coast, he breathed in slowly before exhaling afterward. He would miss this place...

After half an hour or so, he walked down the beach for a while, only running into a little cafe after a bit of a walk. It didn't seem to be busy, so he walked in, only to see a single man running it by himself. He was a petite man with ginger hair and large, bushy brows. He was sitting on the front counter, reading a book, seeming to be completely distracted. Heading over, Alfred cleared his throat, causing emerald hues to shoot up, a sort of embarrassed blush appearing on the man's face. Alfred was breathless. Those had to be the greenest eyes that he'd ever seen.

"Oi. Don't just sneak up on me like that, you bloody yank. I could have thrown this book at you and where would you be?" The man's voice had a British accent to it, which Alfred found to be completely endearing. A laugh bubbled past the American's lips. "Bruised, I guess." He answered with a grin, only to receive a scowl from the Brit. "Smart arse."

Scooting off of the counter, the Englishman brushed off his apron, which had just a bit of sand on it. Ah, the effects of working on the coast. "What can I do for you anyway? Are you going to buy something?" He asked, squinting at Alfred, who just shrugged. "Just was wandering around.. but now that I think about it- d'ya mind just sittin' around with me?" Alfred asked hopefully. The stranger seemed surprised by this, but as he looked over the American's outfit, he understood and just nodded. "..Fine. But not here."

And with that said, the man tugged him out of the cafe, locking it and putting the "Sorry, we're closed" sign up. After a rather short walk, the two men were sitting on the pier, feet hanging off as they looked over the ocean. Then, they started to talk. It turned out, the man's name was Arthur Kirkland. He was an immigrant from Great Britain, whose family came to look for work.

Somehow, they'd ended up here and opened up that little cafe. Arthur was left with the responsibility of running it when his father died. As they talked Alfred found himself opening up to this rather strange man, just laughing and carrying along. They spoke of past conquests, adventures, life- love. Their talking was all fueled by a small bottle of fine liquor that Arthur had in his pocket.

"The first time that I fucked a man was the best moment of my life," Arthur was saying, only to receive wide eyes from Alfred. He wasn't judging- no, not whatsoever. He himself was sure that he liked women, but there was something about Arthur.. "How about you?" The slightly tipsy Brit was asking.

"What?"

"You ever fucked a man before?" Arthur asked bluntly, taking the flask of alcohol and bringing it to perfect pink lips, taking a slow sip. The sight made Alfred flush furiously. "Uh- no, never done that.. at all..." But now he wanted to. "Not that I wouldn't, I mean-" He was a virgin. Completely. Like, he'd only had one girlfriend in the past, and that ended rather badly, so he hadn't dated since.

"You mean?" Arthur inquired, a brow raising as Alfred spoke.

"I mean that I've only ever wanted to do that with one man-" The American blurted out. Damn. Alcohol really gave him loose lips. A sort of sly smile appeared on the Brit's lips. Pink, soft looking wonders. "Who is this lucky man? I must give him my congratulations for turning such a good, loyal American just the least bit homosexual."

Alfred coughed. "Well-"

"Well?"

"He's sitting right next to me." The taller blond continued, only to make the shorter blink slowly. And then, he smiled. "Oh?" The Brit was falsely coy, long lashes fluttering at Alfred in a way that he was sure that only Arthur's could. Scooting close, Arthur let their legs touch, body leaning close. "You want to fuck me?" His voice was a purred whisper, the complete embodiment of sin. Smooth and silky like fine velvet. Arthur smelled of lavender and the sea. And Alfred loved it. "Jesus, yes." The American breathed out, only to feel soft lips press against his in response. Arthur's lips.

They were softer than Alfred could have ever imagined. They were perfect. This moment was perfect. Everything felt so real, and the American had never felt more alive in his entire life. He and Arthur made love on that very pier, under the setting sun, and honestly, he couldn't have asked for a better first time.

Laying together on the soft wood afterwards, curled up together, Alfred and Arthur gazed up at the sky. A little chuckle passed over Arthur's lips, the sound making Alfred look down, a sort of questioning look upon his face. "At least you won't die a virgin, right?" The Brit asked the open air, only to make Alfred gaze back up at the stars above, leaving the comment in the air.

* * *

Alfred went off to war. He would send letters back to Arthur, telling him of his adventures with his comrades, letting him know that he was safe. The more they exchanged letters, the more they realized just how deeply they had fallen for one another. Both confessed in a letter. They talked of their future, how they would run away together and find somewhere nice to live. It would be wonderful. The latest letter that Arthur had gotten was dated a few months prior. He read it over and over again:

 _Artie,_

 _Don't be too sad without me. I miss you too, but we'll see each other soon. I can't wait. I can't wait to feel your skin beneath mine and to kiss you once more. It's all I can think about on the front line. I have someone to go home to, so I'm determined to fight and win this war. For you, for my comrades, and for my country._

 _When it's getting kinda rough over here, I think of that day sittin' down at the pier. I close my eyes and just imagine you smilin' at me, and I see that it'll be okay. For the first time in my life, I have hope. It's in you. In your eyes, in your smile... I am completely invested in you, Arthur Kirkland. And although we can't marry, I do wanna spend the rest of my life with you. I love you._

 _Now don't you worry, but I won't be able to write for a while. I'll get back to you as soon as I can, sweetheart._

 _Yours,_

 _Alfred F. Jones_

Arthur was honestly worried that he hadn't heard back, but the thought of Alfred dying never crossed his mind. If the man said that he would come back, then he would.

He'd never been more wrong.

The news came the next day, over the radio in his cafe.

That same voice came on, announcing those who have died thus far. Listening to the long list, emerald hues shot up when he heard the name: "Alfred Frederick Jones."

And it was in that moment, that Arthur's world came crashing down. All of their promises, the hope, their sweet words... They all faded to grey.

Arthur was never the same.


End file.
